Uphill Smackdown
by FriendlyBioterrorist
Summary: Dana is still in her coma and in need of a doctor. Alex is getting his baby sister out of Manhattan at whatever the cost. Blackwatch isn't too happy, obviously, and then there's an underlying conspiracy that keeps getting in the way... (With nowhere to go but down, he held his sister tighter and tipped over the edge.) [no pairings]
1. Chapter 1

**NEED TO KNOW**: This is an AU. I'm tweaking canon in that Alex accessed Taggart's memory and shut the bomb off before dropping it into the ocean. If it had gone off, it would've caused _major_ nuclear fallout (_five times_ the size of fucking Hiroshima? My god, what on earth was Blackwatch _thinking_?) which equals radiation in the water, world panic, politics and yada yada yada. (on second thought I might explore this in another AU, but not now.)

Minor things here are different from what's in canon, but you'll discover those as you read. They're important to the plot. If I screw something up that annoys the crap out of you, do let me know.

* * *

A window above him shatters. Glass rains down on his head and he stumbles, shielding his face with his arms. Something strikes the back of his neck and pain explodes behind his eyes, red splashing across his vision as he hits the ground. The soft skin of his arm rips open as he's forcefully dragged across the rough pavement, white hot pain sending him into shock. He can't scream, he can't breathe, and he's putting all the energy he has into getting air into his lungs. He rolls over and props himself up on his palms, adrenaline fueling his body to get the hell out of there.

When he looks up, his assailant looks down, and all thought of fleeing is immediately forgotten. The monster is looming above him as if it's Death incarnate. Its eyes, which are hard, silver and hawk-like, peer out from the dark depths of its hood.

Within the span of less than a second, he knows he's going to die. Without hesitation, the hand of Death securely grasps Tory's head and slams it into the ground, breaking cartilage and bone and concrete.

The teen dies upon impact, but the memory of Tory Baker lives on inside the monster of Manhattan.

* * *

Eight humans later and his biomass was still churning unhappily with hunger.

Zeus' scowl deepened as he stalked his next meal, an infected woman with a limp. His movements precise, he twisted her neck, the sharp crack muffled as she was consumed from behind. He ignored the expected rush of memories and emotions with practiced ease, firmly pushing them down as he peered forward into the darkness with the woman's eyes, lumbering shapes outlined clearly in his vision.

All the humans left were easy pickings, but the city's occupants had been thinned out dramatically, the result of Redlight and Blackwatch's respective missions in what was now a stark wasteland. The Marine Corp's firepower hadn't helped in the long run, either, he thought as he jumped over a house-sized crater in the street.

He paused mid-lunge to look over his shoulder, inspecting the destroyed asphalt thoughtfully.

Actually, he might've caused that one.

The Bloodtox pumped into the sewers still hadn't dissipated and it covered the ground in a thick fog. A light flickered before burning out completely; the wall it was fixed to covered in graffiti. He neared a collapsed hive; the destroyed material and decaying biomass spilled into the intersection, blocking his way. He jumped over most of it with ease, using the broken iron support beams for a boost into open air. He glided down, landing gracefully on the other side before sprinting to the end of the road.

Ragland's morgue was straight ahead; Alex could smell antiseptic and the sour stench of preserved corpses underneath the unpleasant tang of death that permeated the city. He switched back to his default form – Mercer's body wasn't his, not exactly, but it felt the most natural – in a flash of black and red. He slowed and jogged towards the side door. Taking a moment to scan for any unwanted Infected, he pushed open the door and walked through it like a normal person. Dana would have been proud, he reflected wryly as the metal hinges let out a high pitched squeal. He'd bet his Hammerfist that the sound would draw out Walkers, and he quickly closed it.

Looking for something to block the door with, he grabbed a bookshelf, dragged it over a few feet and leaned it on the door. It would have to do. He didn't have to worry about it, anyway; he didn't intend to leave the same way he came in. He passed the elevator – defunct, it looked like the power had gone out – and made quick work of the stairs, heading underground. The electricity was working here, and as he made a beeline for where his sister lay unconscious, he could hear the mechanical humming of a backup generator.

From what he remembered last time he'd been there, Dana had been laid out on center table in the morgue, hooked up to an IV and covered with a blanket. As of what he could see from the doorway, the set up hadn't changed at all. Her chest rose and fell in a steady pattern as she breathed, which was a good sign, but it was the sound of her heartbeat that calmed him.

His sister was still alive.

Ragland was at his desk, typing something into his computer. His glasses reflected the screen. "Hello, Alex." The virus didn't return the greeting. He hovered near Dana's side, reaching out and tentatively grasping her hand. It wasn't warm, but it wasn't freezing, either. It was just limp.

"How is she?"

Ragland pushed out from behind his desk and walked over to the other side of the examination table. "Still stable."

"Do you have any idea what Greene might have done?" The doctor shook his head. Ragland had pronounced bags under his eyes, and his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. Alex could relate, to a degree.

"I don't have the right equipment. I can't tell if this was caused by something Redlight-related, or blunt force trauma. Either is feasible at this point." The scientist went on to elaborate, but the virus tuned him out. _Dana wasn't getting any better._ His face darkened and he ground his teeth together. He wanted to rip Greene out of his biomass and pummel her until she was less than a smear on the pavement.

Dana was his and his alone. The fact that Greene had been able to lay a finger on her infuriated him; but Dana being hurt by something he didn't understand terrified him. The only positive side to this was that Greene was out of the picture. He'd extracted his revenge, as far as that avenue went. Dana _had_ to get better; there was no room for alternatives. She was the only reason he'd been able to hold onto the small amount of human emotion and reasoning he possessed. She was different, and he cared for her in a way he didn't fully understand.

He refused to fail her as Mercer had.

"You're the only doctor left in Manhattan," Alex stated slowly, his mind whirring at a million miles an hour, his plan beginning to form piece by piece.

"As far as we know. Why?"

"The troops started to withdraw after I defeated Greene." Ragland's eyes narrowed.

"Alex, what are you-"

"And I haven't been chased by a Blackwatch goon since... a few hours ago." The event in itself was unusual; there was that pesky kill on sight order, for one thing, and they had been doing their best to track him down twenty-four-seven since he had woken up. The inactivity was suspicious. Alex nodded. "I can get us outside city limits." Momentarily scrounging up memories from a registered nurse, Alex disconnected Dana's IV and lifted her bridal style, taking care to brace her neck in the crook of his arm. Ragland tensed, but didn't make a move to stop him. The virus approved of his restrain.

"I can't just _leave_ without prior warning," Ragland sputtered, motioning to the paperwork scattered across his desk. "I need to finish analyzing the data." Alex tried to make out the small print from across the room, with no success.

"Data from what?" Ragland waved his hands back and forth.

"I'm wrapping up a project. It's completely unrelated to the virus." Alex gritted his teeth in irritation; this wasn't going the way he needed it to. He didn't try to restrain a low, rumbling growl. To his disappointment, Ragland didn't look cowed.

"You can't put it aside for a few days?"

"I owe somebody a favor."

"You're the only doctor that has a handle on Redlight and how to deal with it," he countered.

"Mercer was head geneticist at GENTEK, Alex. You should be more knowledgeable about it than I am." The scientist paused. "Unless you can't access Mercer's memories?"

"No. I can." He just didn't _want_ to. Mercer had been a sociopath; in _his_ memories everything was stark and clear, black and white. The white wasn't necessarily good, even; it defined whatever helped Mercer achieve his sick, twisted goals. He didn't want the human's way of thinking to scratch away at the small amount of humanity he'd managed to scrounge up from a week with Dana and the people he'd consumed.

"Being stuck inside this hellhole isn't helping her," he stated, turning his back on Ragland. He started for the door. "I'm getting us out tonight."

"We don't know if she's infected or not," Ragland warned. "If you bring her with you, you could be spreading the virus further." Ragland wasn't mentioning the embodiment of a far more lethal strain standing directly in front of him, Alex noted. _Humans._ He'd never understand them.

"You think I haven't already checked?" Alex rumbled, exasperated with the back-and-forth. "I would have known if she was."

"It could be a dormant strain," the doctor argued back. Alex grudgingly shoved down the urge to beat Ragland to a pulp, reminding himself that the doctor had Dana's best interests in mind, even if he didn't act like it at the moment.

"I would still sense it," Alex stated.

"It's not a good idea until we know for sure." Zeus' patience was growing thinner and thinner. He smiled insincerely, using more teeth than good humor.

"You can't stop me."

"I suppose I can't," Raglan grumbled. "Do you know where the nearest open hospital is?" Alex glared. The doctor shook his head. "That's what I thought. Look, just…" Ragland scratched his chin. "Go to Brooklyn. When you're there look for the Medical Center; from Manhattan it's about fifteen miles southeast. When you arrive, ask for Doctor Marquez." At Alex's questioning look, he added, "She's an old colleague, works in the long term patients ward."

"You're sending me to somebody affiliated with Blackwatch." Alex's voice was completely devoid of emotion.

"No, she never worked there. We met in college." Alex shook his head.

"You can trust her, Alex."

"Don't tell me who to trust," he snarled. Ragland took a step back as Alex considered his options. Did he really have another choice? Or, more importantly, did Dana have a better option? "...If she tries anything, I'm killing her and coming back for you." Ragland nodded.

"It won't be an issue."

"How will I recognize her?"

"Brown hair, brown eyes, no sense of humor or respect; you'll know her when you meet her. Horrible traits for a doctor to have..." Ragland smirked. "Reminds me of someone."

"I have a sense of humor," Zeus stated stoically. "And you're _recommending_ her?"

"What she lacks for in people skills she makes up for in talent. She strives to be the best at what she does."

"How much does she know about the virus?"

"I contacted her once, after the outbreak. I'd assume that the media has covered some of it..."

"I don't like this." Ragland shrugged.

"Don't scare her off. You can answer any questions she has." Alex eyed Ragland as he walked back to his desk. He shook the mouse, and the computer screensaver returned to whatever program he'd been working with. "I can't think of any other options." As Ragland returned to his work, Alex looked down at Dana. Her eyes were closed, and her face was slack, the hardness around her eyes gone. He curled his hand and brought the back of his knuckles to lightly brush the left side of her collarbone.

Her heart continued to beat, strong and unwavering.

"Thank you."

When Ragland lifted his head to reply, Zeus and his sister were gone.

* * *

I should probably warn that my update speed will come and go, depending on whatever work my college professors decide on assigning.

I WROTE ABOUT THE POWER OF LOVE

WHAT HAVE I DONE


	2. Chapter 2

A quick and most likely unnecessary memo: I don't remember the span of time between Greene putting Dana in a coma and Alex rescuing Dana, so after some deliberation I decided it would only be a few days for the sake of my sanity. I also haven't been in a hospital in awhile; please prepare for me to gloss over things I know shit about.

YOUR REVIEWS MADE ME SMILE. Like these big, beaming smiles. You guys are awesome. Thank you. Sorry for this bullshit update speed; I chose a stupid time to start writing. My job's hours are insane and I'm at two(!) community colleges weekly, so have limited time for everything right now. Hopefully that'll clear up sooner rather than later...

* * *

Carrying Dana without jostling her was more difficult than he'd thought; he was used to abrupt take-offs and changing directions on a whim, and as such he'd had to recalculate and eventually discard the idea of using most of his routes. Getting to the outskirts of Manhattan had taken almost twenty minutes as opposed to a normal ten.

The air was sharp and cool as he glided over to a low, two-story building. There was no movement on the streets below; everything was empty and silent. He knew from experience that it the area was a good vantage point; from the roof he'd take stock of his surroundings and figure out where his next move would be.

When he landed, he felt unexplainably uneasy.

Distantly, he heard a voice bellow the word _fire_-

-the military had pulled out of central Manhattan, yes, but that didn't mean that they were gone from the outer parts, because that would've been downright fucking insane, the majority of Infected were literally crawling to get out of the city, the virus was still, _he_ was still-

-he jumped back and snarled as bullets tore through his legs, leaving behind ragged tunnels as deep red blobs mimicking tissue splattered across the flat rooftop. The wounds quickly patched themselves over with a muted sting.

"_Fucking_," he began, but was cut short by another barrage of bullets. With a thought, he expanded biomass to cover Dana, and maneuvered her away so that her body was completely shielded from enemy fire. Alex focused on increasing the density of his biomass until the bullets began ricocheting off of a dark layer of armor. Moving to the edge of the roof to assess the situation, he peeked over only to quickly backpedal as a missile whistled by inches past his ear.

He quickly added another extra layer of biomass over Dana before the missile exploded twenty feet above their heads, unleashing a tsunami of blistering heat. With nowhere to go but down, he held his sister tighter and tipped over the edge.

The pavement cracked under the force of their landing. A sharp hiss had Alex jerking his head up as a canister flew over their heads, releasing a thick trail of red smoke. It settled over them in a thick fog; the smoke was something almost tangy and far, far more bitter than normal. As it clouded his vision, he could feel it begin to irritate his biomass. Without warning, the pain sharply increased as a thin layer of biomass began to peel away. A new kind of _bloodtox_?

Bullets continued to ricochet off his back. If the military continued with normal SMAFU protocol, there were more missiles and a small legion of tanks on the way. Uncurling, Alex launched himself out of the crater he'd created and onto the fourth story of a nearby building, a slew of enemy fire following in an arc. Reforming his hand and leg into more useful tentacles, he clung to the brick face and waited for the tanks. After four of Dana's heartbeats Alex leapt for the leading vehicle. He landed heavily, knocking it back, and opened the latched metal trap door with minimal effort. He heard a trooper hiss a distraught _Oh_, _fuck_.

The slaughter was hurried and messy and would have been more enjoyable if he wasn't pressed for time.

He laid Dana out in one of the seats and gently tugged her hood over her head. The controls were drenched in blood; he absorbed a spray of red off of a display screen with a swipe of his hand, reading the output with a practiced eye.

It was time to move.

* * *

Exiting the central part of Manhattan was the easy part, he thought as he slowed the tank down to a crawl. He edged around Dana, propped open the door and peered out. It was quiet. Birds were chirping, the sky was blue and the surrounding area was empty… it seemed to be clear.

Withdrawing his armor and tentacles, he propped Dana in a fireman's carry and exited the tank, dropping lightly to the ground. Their position was covered by trees. It looked like they were in a park of some kind, and the smell of gasoline and rubber accompanied the sounds of heavy traffic. This was the outskirts of his birthplace; he could tell that much by the evidence of life.

Dana continued to breathe.

Fifteen miles southeast, Ragland had said.

He repositioned Dana and trekked for the sidewalk, moving out from under the heavy canopy of leaves and taking a moment to assess his surroundings. It was far less industrialized here; there was a lot of greenery and a distinct lack of property damage. The buildings were not as run down, less sparse and not as tall. If used the rooftops, there was a possibility that he'd be spotted by security cameras or the humans walking the streets, even at this late hour. He frowned and made his way to a pickup parked near their location.

It took a car alarm and manually breaking a window before he realized that they'd be stuck in traffic for half an hour if he hotwired the vehicle.

He spun and sprinted for the nearest wall.

He'd risk the rooftops.

* * *

He felt a strange pang of _something_ somewhere in his being when he realized the hospital wasn't as big as the one in Manhattan.

While it was dark and quiet outside, the inside of the ER was well lit and seemed very, very busy. As he stepped closer, the double doors slid open with a whoosh of cold, sterile air. Wincing, he looked around; rows of uncomfortable looking seats were filled with people in various states of duress; a pale woman with thinly pressed lips holding a broken arm. Across the room, a child wailed for its mother. He sidestepped a homeless man sacked out across the floor next to the entry, the stench of alcohol momentarily wiping out Alex's sense of smell. Out of everything the noise was the worst; it was almost deafening to his superior hearing.

Unsure where to go, Alex stood still in the sea of chaos. While his biomass had absorbed the mess that the troopers had left behind, Dana was still covered in drying blood, and some of the sticky mess had transferred back to Alex. In hindsight, he probably should have removed the evidence of the troopers' deaths, but at the moment it still wasn't his main priority. Hearing heavy footsteps heading for his direction, he turned his head towards the sound, keeping his eye on the man in blue scrubs that was hurrying over.

When the nurse was close, he reached for Dana's wrist and began checking for a pulse.

"How long has she been in unconscious?" Quicker than the human eye could perceive, the virus removed the nurse's hand and captured his wrist tightly, immobilizing it. He froze, and Alex could hear the human's heartbeat quickening in surprise.

"Dr. Marquez works here," the virus growled.

"Yes, but she might not be available." The virus gripped the nurse's wrist tighter. The man tensed in discomfort.

"Make her available."

"Sir-" Alex could hear the man's bones creaking under the pressure.

"Get. Marquez. Over. Here," Alex paused, and then added, "and bring a bed."

"Jesus, okay! Let go of me." The virus did so and the man backed up, eying Alex wearily. "Stay here." He watched the man disappear down the hallway, his dark scrubs easy to make out against the light walls.

A few minutes later, after he saw the nurse return with a woman in a lab coat. As they grew closer, Alex noted the new arrival had dark hair and a name tag that read _Marquez, M.D_. There were other abbreviations; the virus mentally wrote them off as irrelevant.

"I'm Marquez," she said, stepping over the drunk without preamble. "You asked for me?" Alex nodded. Marquez looked over Dana, then back at Alex. "I don't recognize either of you. Are you from the shelter?" The virus shook his head. He doubted she could see much of his face; he had pulled his hood lower, shadowed his face more and changed his jacket into something plainer. Blackwatch was on high alert, and it would hinder Dana's treatment if they saw Alex on any kind of grainy surveillance camera footage.

"Ragland recommended you." Marquez blinked. Two nurses wheeled a bed with white sheets over, and the doctor motioned him to deposit Dana onto it. He carefully set her down, and backed up as the doctor began rattling off instructions to two women wearing scrubs. One began hooking an IV. Alex watched the needle puncture the pale skin of his sister's arm with a frown, remembering that Dana hated needles.

The doctor turned back to Alex. "I haven't heard from him in awhile." Her tone was flat, but she didn't seem hostile at the mention of Ragland. An orderly passed by and handed ber a clipboard; she scribbled something down, tilting it away from Zues' prying eyes. "So what's with the blood?"

"It's not hers," he said, fingering the cuff of his new jacket. The liquid had dried, and it flaked off with a gentle brush. Flakes of it drifted to the pale linoleum floor.

"Good to know. Is it your upper abdomen?"

"No, it rubbed off on me." She frowned.

"Look," she said, drawling the vowels longer than strictly necessary. Alex couldn't help but be a little insulted; he wasn't _slow_. "You let this pass and you'll be waiting longer for treatment."

"I'm fine," Alex asserted flatly. Marquez turned away without another comment and continued barking commands at the medical assistants. Alex separated himself from the commotion, pacing himself to follow a few steps away as Dana was pushed and quickly directed towards one of the wings in the hospital.

The doctor slowed and situated herself next to Alex, clipboard at the ready. "What can you tell me about what occurred before she became comatose?"

"I don't know." Which was true, sort of. "Ragland didn't either."

"Yeah, well. Ragland isn't much of a doctor." She made a note, then tapped her pen twice. "How long has she been unconscious?"

"A few days." Marquez shook her head.

"She had medical attention, I hope?" she asked, although her body language suggested that she exprected a different answer. Alex weighed the possible responses before finally settling on something simple.

"We couldn't." Marquez raised an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We were in the middle of a war zone," Alex grouched. "This was the closest open center." Zues heard her heart begin to pound and her breathing becoming quicker. Curious about the unexpected reaction, he looked over. Marquez was clutching the clipboard tight in a white-knuckled grip.

"Ragland, that _bastard_," she swore, her eyes wide. "You're from the middle of _that_ hellhole, and he thought it was a smart to send you _here_? Why not a militarily quarantine?"

"…we're not on very good terms at the moment."

"Oh my god," she said faintly. "He wants me to help a felon." Before Alex could correct her, the doctor ran after the gurney. "Put the patient in quarantine unit, stat!"

"Doc, she's comatose," a nurse objected.

"I said Quarantine, Mitch," she spat. "Do your fucking job! I'm trying to prevent a pandemic, here." The nurse recoiled.

"You mean she's…?"

"Hey, she's not..." Alex said, moving to stop the doctor and explain further. Someone stepped in front of him and pressed their hands to his shoulders, forcing him to stop.

"Sir! You can't go over there." Seeing the glint of a security camera in the corner of the hall, he froze. _No funny stuff_, Dana's voice warned him as he pushed down the instinct to strike back. Marquez and Dana's dark head disappeared around a corner. Even though the surroundings were different, he still felt like he was ripping his arm off, slowly and painfully. _Dana!_

"I'm sorry, but you need to go to the waiting room," the security guard stated firmly, his voice fading into existence. Alex blinked, shoving the memory of Greene's kidnapping to the recesses of his mind.

"Get out of my way," Alex demanded. His silver eyes narrowed and mouth twisted in anger; the overhead lights were too strong and left spots in his vision. Or that was his rage. It was hard to tell.

"The doctor needs to give the green light before you can go in, I'm sorry." While the guard seemed genuinely regretful, Alex didn't like the answer. He scowled and brushed the man off, stepping aside instead of throwing him across the room like he wanted to.

"I'm following my sister."

"Look, you can't go over there." the double doors opened again, and Alex's vision tunneled in on the sight of Marquez stepping out into the hall. Alex brushed past the guard and stalked towards Dana's room. Marquez saw Alex's rigid stance and the burly security guard and sighed.

"Doctor Marquez," the man began. She waved him off.

"It's okay, Avery," she said tiredly. "I have some questions to ask him about the patient." As soon as the guard was out of earshot, Marquez pinned Alex with a harsh glare.

"Is she Infected?"

* * *

Sorry to leave it here. Updates will continue to fluctuate depending on school schedule.


End file.
